The Knowledge

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I was awake at four unable to sleep.

I was leaving Dublin. I was going to catch the 8:45 am Irish Ferry. There was nothing else to do except to pack my small back pack.

The early alarm call that I’d booked to make sure that I didn’t oversleep trilled hours later. I laughed with the receptionist who was surprised to find the recipient of his call already wide awake and so chatty.

I even had time to explore the hotel’s labyrinth of downstairs rooms that opened up like secret chambers, one after the other, as I pushed open fire doors.

In one of the distant rooms, I had been told, I’d find the newspapers. I did.

Then there I was, happily reading and eating my early morning breakfast at leisure. Wide awake and chipper.

I was cool and relaxed.

At 7:30 I was outside the hotel waiting for my taxi ride down to the quays: a journey that would only take a few minutes.

At 7:35 I was beginning to feel tense.

At 7:40 I was worried. There was no sign of my taxi.

‘I’ll be there at 7:30 outside your hotel,’ the taxi driver Thomas had promised.

He never turned up.

At 7:45 I decided to walk down to the taxi rank on O'Connell Street to get another one.

At 7:50 I’m in a taxi driven by Samuel, who is from Nigeria.

All goes well at first, although Samuel’s driving is frightening and includes techniques such as not giving way, or giving an inch of space to other road users.

One of my feet is already pressing an imaginary brake hard to the ground.

At 7:55 the calm voice of the SAT NAV relaxes me a little. She seems to have everything under control. Traffic lights hold us up close to the bus station and Samuel drums his fingers impatiently.

They change and we’re off again.

At 8:00 we’re travelling down a very long straight road. Ahead of us I can see a car has stopped and is about to try to reverse into a parking spot. It’s all in full clear view. Samuel drives at speed as if the road is clear, as if there isn’t a small blue car suspended in time awkwardly positioned on the road ahead of us blocking our road. Both my feet are now pressing hard on the imaginary brakes. My fingers are gripping my knees. The blind SAT NAV lady says not a word.

‘I think he’s reversing,’ I suggest.

Samuel speeds up.

I close my eyes ready for the impact.

Somehow, we miss the car.

I am now wide-eyed and silent with fear my hands are clutching my knees.
At the next junction there is a sign for Irish Ferries pointing to the right.
Samuel turns left.

‘I think the ferry is the other way,’ I suggest helpfully.

Samuel is in the outer lane and seems unable to drift across the lanes onto a slip road that could help us to turn around. The thought doesn’t even seem to occur to him. I wonder if he knows of another alternative quicker route known only to taxi drivers.

At 8:05 there is something like a motorway ahead of us. There is a toll booth. Samuel curses under his breath and throws a couple of brassy looking coins into the dish. Nothing happens, the barrier remains down. Grumbling he throws in more. The barrier lifts and we speed along again into a carbon-monoxide underworld tomb of fumes. There are lorry wheels whirring close to me and I can feel the sweat on my palms. The light is yellow and sickly. The road seems to go on for ever.

At 8:10 I’m resigned. I know that there is no way we can make the check in time. I’m fearful for my life. Perhaps Samuel who has only just arrived in Ireland from Nigeria and is actually kidnapping me mistaking me for an albino whose bones he could grind up for ritualistic magic.

At 8:15 ‘Perhaps we should take that exit I suggest.’

He does so, and turns the car around. I expect him to go back through the tunnel but instead he takes a different exit on seeing the toll booths again and we are now in the greyer edges of Dublin travelling with the rush hour Monday morning traffic. Cars are netted like shimmering fish at every set of traffic lights.

Samuel drives fast and stops with such suddenness, I seriously think of opening the door and running.

At 8:20 the Sat Nav lady talks again and calms me down. Samuel calculates her lefts and rights with his fingers.

The lights are red.

I’m holding my breath.

At 8:25 I attempt to explain to Samuel that I will have missed the check-in time, but he has only limited understanding of English and does not understand. We are snarled in traffic next to dingy grey buildings.

At 8:30 we are nearing the ferry terminal again. I point out the sign and we follow the long road again.

The place is quiet, deserted. There is nobody around. It’s as if all living things have been sucked from that place.

It is grey place as were my hopes.

At 8:33 I’m dropped off many yards from the terminal building.

The fare is 36 Euros. I pay him only 10 and walk away on trembling legs into the cool terminal.

It is as I feared, as I enter the silence of the hall, both the check out desks for Irish Ferries are closed, the signs proclaim as much.

There is nobody about.

The place is silent.

I see one man hidden against the wall.

‘You’ve missed the ferry,’ he says.

I nod.

‘What’s the time?’ I ask.

‘8:35,’ he says. ‘You have to check in half an hour earlier to catch the ferry,’ he explains.

I nod. ‘I know,’ I say.

I’m too shaky to argue. I’m resigned for a four hour wait for the next ferry. ‘My taxi driver got lost,’ I explain calmly.’ He took me through a tunnel.’

As if this is some sort of secret password, the man begins to chat on his walkie-talkie. It’s arranged. With a quick look at my ticket, he writes my name on the list, prints a boarding pass and I’m whisked away through ‘Arrivals’ onto a coach, and then onto the ferry.

I am astonished as I find that I have a seat, and I can see Dublin already slipping away. Beneath my feet are chugging vibrations of the boat.

The sun shines and I feel blessed.

I discover later that the taxi drivers on O'Connell Street are famous for getting lost. It seems they most have come recently from abroad and they don’t as yet have ‘The Knowledge’ of Dublin.

Travellers beware!

Irish Ferries, for not being ‘jobsworths’, absolutely brilliant. I sing your praises!

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